Learning the Ropes
by Kartissa
Summary: A junior executive learns what it means to be Mr Johnson.
1. Chapter 1

Junior Executive Daniel Carter entered the club somewhat nervously. He felt conspicuously out of place in his pressed suit and tie amongst all the street-clad customers. "Strides" was one of the better clubs in the slums of Old Harlem, but it was still a gang hangout. Few people in the shadows had reason to like the Megacorps, and in this district, dislike frequently ended with a body floating down the East River.

"Relax kid," Harrison muttered quietly as he overtook Daniel, heading for the bar. "We're safe here. Believe it or not, these suits make us invisible."

Looking around, Daniel realised it was true. Not only were they not attracting attention, but most people in the club seemed to actively avoid looking at the two company men. Trying to look as confident as his superior, Daniel followed the senior executive to the bar.

As they waited for the bartender to serve them, he quietly asked his boss about the apparent aversion.

"Street etiquette," his mentor replied. "When suits come to a place like this it means a job for somebody. One that company men like us can't be seen doing." Daniel nodded. They were here to meet one of the older man's 'runner teams for just such a job. "Here in the shadows, if it doesn't involve you, it doesn't exist. To a point, anyway." Harrison raised his voice as the bartender approached, skipping several rough-looking gangers, who didn't seem upset by this. "Vodka Martini. Shaken, not stirred, with a twist."

"Take a seat," the bartender pointed to a curtained booth in the far corner by the stage. "Someone'll bring it over to you." He nodded to a blonde Elf-girl at the end of the bar, and turned his attention to the gangers he had skipped.

Harrison took Daniel's shoulder and led him to the booth, taking a seat facing the stage. Somewhat confused, Daniel sat next to him and looked around the club. The mood seemed to have changed somehow. Everyone seemed more relaxed.

"So how do we get in touch with this team of yours?" he asked quietly.

"I just did," replied Harrison. "One of them's on her way right now." He nodded across to the Elf crossing the floor carrying a drink on a tray. Entering the booth, she set the glass down in front of Harrison, then sat down and pulled the curtain closed.

"Hello Johnson," she addressed the senior executive, before turning to Daniel. "And that makes you Smith."

"Actually -" Daniel began before his boss interrupted him.

"That's right, Zeta. You're looking good."

"Thanks," she smiled, facing the speaker. "New boy?" Harrison nodded.

"Smith, meet Foreyzeta. Tir Tairngire citizen and Mage of the Fourth Circle."

"Fifth, actually," Zeta corrected him. "Earned a promotion last week."

"Congratulations. Up for one of those myself next month," Harrison stated. "Unfortunately the move upstairs comes with one upstate, and I don't want to deprive the company of your skills, so I'm teaching Smith what he needs to know."

"So you leave, he gets a name change?"

"That's the plan," Harrison confirmed. Zeta closed her eyes briefly before replying.

"We can live with that. So what's up? Not like you to make a social call all suited up."

"AresTech." Zeta nodded as though she'd expected his answer.

"The Gauss rifle." It wasn't a question. Harrison nodded.

"We want the prototype and blueprints, and their research wiped from the local server. Central mainframe too, if you can manage it, but that's a bonus."

"Tricky," Zeta mused. "They've got top security at their research lab."

"That's why I came to you."

The Elf smiled at the implied compliment. "Details?"

Harrison took an envelope from his jacket pocket passed it to her. "Usual fees and bonuses."

Zeta opened the envelope and gave the contents a cursory glance. "We'll talk it over and get back to you. Enjoy the show." She stood and opened the curtain.

"Always do, Zeta." Harrison raised his martini and downed it in one, setting the empty glass on the tray, which Zeta picked up and returned to the bar.

"What's the deal with the names?" Daniel asked. "I thought you said they knew who you were."

"I've no doubt that they know exactly who we both are, where we work and probably what we had for breakfast this morning," Harrison replied, "but we're here on business, so I'm called Johnson. It's Shadowtalk for a corporate employer."

"More street stuff?" Daniel asked. Harrison nodded.

"As long as we're Johnsons, we're untouchable here."

"What she said about a name change…," the young executive began.

"When you're hiring Shadowrunners you become Mr Johnson." Harrison confirmed. "Doesn't matter what your real name is. You don't even have to be a mister."

Daniel looked back across to the bar where the Elf had slipped away out of sight. "Zeta works here?"

"She lives here," Harrison replied. "She and her team own the place. They know everything that goes on here."

"Lucky she was at the bar when you ordered that drink."

"The hell it was," Harrison snorted. "Whenever a suit comes here one of them gets called down before we've even walked in the room."

"So why didn't she meet us at the door? Why the thing with the drink?"

"Not every Johnson who comes here has business with the owners. The place is a regular hangout for many of the local 'runners."

The conversation paused as a woman approached the table and set down two glasses before the executives. Harrison took a drink of his Glenmorangie whiskey, as Daniel picked up the other glass and sipped it cautiously.

"Pernod!" His favourite drink. "How did they know - ?"

"Lise is showing off, as usual," Harrison answered with a wry smile.

"One of Zeta's team?" Daniel ventured. Harrison nodded.

"Alise Cottles. Probably the best decker on the east coast."

"I know that name," mused the younger executive. "Wasn't she the one who –?"

"Don't go there, kid," Harrison interrupted sharply. "She left that life behind when she Changed." The capitalisation was evident. "She may be scrawny for her Breed, but that just means it'll take her an extra second to snap your neck like a twig if you piss her off. And reminding her of her past does exactly that."

"I'll bear that in mind," Daniel noted, sipping his drink.

Harrison held his glass close as he scanned the bar almost instinctively. He was about to take another drink when he froze, turning to look at the entrance.

"Ah crap!"

"Problem?" Daniel asked his superior. Harrison nodded across to the bar.

"Suit just walked in. I know him." He downed his whiskey and leaned forward. "He's from Ares."

"Is he here because of us?"

"Probably just here to hire a team," Harrison replied quietly, adjusting his cyberears to tune out most of the background music and conversation. "Unfortunately there are only two weapon breakthroughs lately that I'm aware of, and one of them is theirs."

"The Gauss rifle we're after," Daniel stated. After a moment's thought, he continued. "The other one is our phased plasma gun."

"Exactly," Harrison confirmed. He sat back, having heard what he hadn't wanted to. "He wants to hire Zeta's team."

The AresTech executive turned toward the stage, momentarily pausing as he saw Harrison, before heading to a booth across the stage from the two Wesson-Ruger employees. Moments later he was joined by the short, red-haired Ork whose appearance at the bar had alerted Harrison of the rival executive.

"Would they really 'run against us?" Daniel asked.

"Sure, if the payoff's big enough."

"Think they'll tell that guy what we want?"

"They don't need to," Harrison stated. "He's an old hand at this. He'll know why we're here."

"What's to stop Zeta's people from double-crossing us?"

"Professional reputation. They betray an employer, they don't get any new ones. That makes them just another 'corp unit, which is what most 'runners left to work the shadows in the first place."

"If we're setting jobs against each other, won't that be a little awkward for them?" Daniel asked.

"Not necessarily. They haven't actually accepted our run yet. If the Ares offer is good enough, they may simply refuse us. Then we'll have to turn to the secondary team, although they're not as good as Zeta's."

Both men watched in silence as the Ork left the booth, holding an envelope similar to the one Harrison had given Zeta. Rather than heading toward the bar, she hurried to a door beside the stage. The lights in the club, already low, dimmed further, and the background music - and conversation - faded into silence.

"Mr Ares will have to wait for his answer," Harrison muttered with a smile. "Serves him right for cutting it so close."

"Cutting what close?"

"Quiet kid," replied the older executive, gesturing at the five figures taking positions on the stage. "Show's about to start."

Daniel looked across as spotlights illuminated the group. He recognised Zeta in the centre and the Ork at the far end, but the other woman and the two men were unknown to him. The dark-haired man stepped forward between Zeta and the Ork as the music started up.

"It's time to begin, now count it in. 5, 6, 7, 8.…"


	2. Chapter 2

Daniel was halfway through his third Pernod when Harrison nudged him out of his daydream. According to the clock installed in his right cybernetic eye, seventeen minutes had passed since the end of the show, yet part of it remained stuck in his head. During one of their songs, called 'A Deeper Shade of Blue' – quite obviously referring to sadness – a brief vision had flashed across his mind of the red-haired Ork he assumed to be Alise Cottles with blue skin, instead of its current light tan. He'd found the image oddly attractive, and his thoughts kept coming back to it.

"Drink up kid," Harrison muttered. "Looks like we got an answer coming." Carter glanced across the bar to see the object of his musings approaching their table, while Zeta crossed the floor to the Ares executive.

"We've got a few things to discuss," said Alise. "Follow me to the office." She led the two men into a spacious back room containing a long table surrounded by chairs. Three of the five on the far side were occupied by the as-yet unidentified performers that made up the rest of the elite Shadowrunning team. Harrison took a seat on the empty side of the table, motioning for Daniel to join him. Alise took her place opposite the junior executive as Zeta entered the room, locking the door behind her, before sitting opposite the more experienced Company Man.

"The first thing you should know is that you're not the only 'corp after the prototype," the Elf stated without preamble. "We know of two teams who've been asked to take it, since they were hired from this establishment. No doubt there are others. It may be gone by the time we get into the lab."

"Blueprints are the important thing," replied Harrison. "With those we can make our own prototype. We'd simply rather not have to. You'll get paid expenses regardless. Next." Zeta nodded and glanced to the Ork on her left.

"Wiping the mainframe won't hurt Ares for long, if at all," Alise commented, pulling a cable from beneath the table and plugging it into one of the several datajack ports in her temple that marked her as a cyberdecker. "They're bound to have it all backed up in external storage, and probably have the blueprints in hardcopy off-site somewhere."

"True, but killing the server will cover any other data thefts that might take place on the relevant night, won't it?"

"It will indeed," the Ork said with a smile.

"One other issue," Zeta stated. "Clause six." Harrison nodded. He'd been expecting this one to cause problems.

"Not negotiable, I'm afraid," he interrupted. "Company policy. Can't call yourself Johnson until you've Run the Shadows, and 'corp ops don't count for this."

"We've got a good group dynamic here. We can't risk a new element causing problems."

"Smith is a good Company Man. He scored high in training and he's performed well on the ops he's been part of. He knows when to keep his head down and follow orders."

Zeta glanced briefly across to Alise, who was already typing away, eyes closed, on a hidden keyboard somewhere below the table. Turning her attention to Carter, the Mage cast her eyes deliberately at the clearly visible 'jack connection on his forehead.

"Deck or rig?" she asked. Carter blinked as he realised the question was directed at him rather than Harrison.

"Erm, rig," he stammered slightly, having been focusing his attention on the slim decker across from him. "Drones. Scouts and light combats." Zeta looked to the man on her far right.

"Extra drones can be useful," he answered the Elf's unspoken question, before turning to Harrison, "as long as they _**are**_ extra."

"'Corp's already authorised use of Ghosts, Olaf," Harrison used the term for unmarked drones, typically used for the more clandestine operations. "Any preference?"

"Scouts," the dark-haired rigger replied without hesitation. "Stealth if possible. Can never have too many eyes."

"We'll see what's available. If that's all…?"

Before Zeta could reply, a small screen rose up from the desk in front of her. Her eyes widened slightly as the studied the information displayed, before folding it down and looking across to Carter.

"Be at the back entrance tomorrow night, seven o'clock sharp, with your drones." She smiled to Harrison and extended her hand across to him. "You got yourself a deal, J."

Harrison took her hand and shook it as he stood. Daniel followed suit, to the extent of standing at least, his eyes drifting back to Alise. The slim Ork had unplugged herself from her deck and slipped out of her chair, walking round to the door and unlocking it and walking out into the main bar. As Harrison led Carter out toward the main entrance, he glanced across to where the Ares executive was following Alise to the back room, and paused momentarily.

"That's strange," he muttered, as he continued toward to the exit. "They don't usually work for rival corps at the same time. Maybe Ares isn't after our PPG after all."

"They're probably just sending someone else after it," Daniel replied. "A 'corp the size of Ares is going to know more than one 'runner team in this district alone, never mind the rest of New York." Harrison looked back at the junior executive and laughed.

"Keep thinking like that and you'll go far in the company, boy. No doubt you're correct, but I can't help wondering what they want from Strides." He shook his head ruefully. "Well, they're not going to tell us, so I'm going to have to ask one of my other contacts, I suppose. Also, I should brief you properly on Zeta's team before you meet with them tomorrow night."

* * *

><p>At exactly 7pm the following night, Daniel pulled into the alleyway behind Strides and disconnected his rigging unit from the unmarked company car Harrison had requisitioned for him. Directing his thoughts to the four drones still connected, he ran a quick system check on each before getting out of the car and looking around.<p>

On Harrison's advice, he had ditched his suit in favour of jeans and T-shirt, covered by a heavy lined leather duster, although that didn't make him feel any more comfortable than the last time he'd travelled to this district. The hidden armour plates, combined with the conspicuously visible Ruger Super-Warhawk heavy revolver on his belt helped his nerves somewhat, as did the twin Wesson .22 holdouts in their forearm holsters.

The alleyway seemed completely deserted, but a flicker of movement drew his eyes to a small security camera pointing directly at him. As he watched, it dipped down and back up, as the red light on top winked out briefly. Carter smiled and nodded back, before scanning the alleyway again. It was remarkably uncluttered considering the neighbourhood. Aside from his car, and two sets of fire escapes, it contained a single dumpster at the far end, beside a large steel shutter that must be the club's delivery entrance, which slowly began to open. When it was high enough, Zeta ducked out from under it and waved to Carter.

"Bring the car in," she said. "We can't guarantee its safety when were out 'running."

Daniel nodded, climbing into the driver's seat. He didn't bother re-connecting his board, but simply drove the car manually into a large area. Zeta directed him left to a bay beside the leading dock. This time, when he left the car, he took his rig unit with him, and walked to open the trunk.

"Nice board," a voice remarked from above him. "It's a Fairlight, isn't it?" Daniel looked up to see the group's rigger jumping down from the dock beside him. The recognition software in his cyber eyes automatically connected to the datasoft Harrison had provided and started to overlay his vision with the company's file on the shadowrunner:- 'Name: Olaf van der Stechler; Height: 1.75m; Weight…' Daniel casually cut off the readout as he answered the rigger's question.

"That's right. An Aegis." Daniel had spent most of his first two years' income on the board, which was generally regarded as one of the best in the world, but at least it was his, and not the company's.

"Often considered getting one of those," Olaf commented, "but I'm too attached to my Mitsubishi here." He tapped the slim board slung over his shoulder. "So let's see these drones you've brought, then."

Daniel stepped aside and sent a brief command through the Fairlight. Four sleek, jet-black discs rose up from a cushioned shelf, each barely a foot in diameter and a third that high. Another command sent them circling Olaf's head. At this range, the 'runner could easily make out details like the camera lenses, and something else that made him frown.

"They're armed. I said I wanted scouts," he said angrily.

"They're scouts," Daniel replied patiently, "but did you honestly think that the company I work for would use anything that doesn't have some kind of gun on it?" The 'runner smiled wryly and shook his head as Daniel continued. "They're only tranqs though, and just four shots with each."

"That could be handy. Wait here a moment." with that, Olaf ducked out of the still-circling drones and hurried over to where Zeta was opening a second shutter opposite the dock. After a brief conversation, he beckoned Daniel over.

"OK, plan's changed," he said as the young executive approached. "We were going to have you secure the perimeter for insertion and escape, but those tranqs are just too useful to pass up. We'll keep a pair outside along with a couple of mine, but the other two are coming in with us to deal with any personnel that Zeta misses."

"I can only handle so many at a time," the elf stated in response to a raised eyebrow, "and even the most powerful Mage can only enchant what she can see. Some magicians can hide themselves from others, but it's practically impossible to conceal something from electronic surveillance in that way."

Daniel nodded. Security cameras were one of the main reasons most shadowrunner teams employed deckers, to conceal the infiltrators from within the Matrix. As if thinking about it had summoned her, Alise strolled past the executive on her way to a large armoured vehicle beyond the other shadowrunners. Daniel blinked in surprise as he noticed it.

"That's –," he began.

"My pride and joy," Olaf broke in, with a large grin. "The only privately-owned Semaphore Mobile Command Centre. A reward from a previous employer."

"And the only one with a turret gun, I bet," Daniel remarked. "One of ours, I believe. A Fury autocannon, yes?" Olaf nodded.

"More penetration than anything Ares makes," he replied, "although the coaxial machine gun that you can't see from here is one of theirs."

"I won't hold that against you. We don't exactly specialise in full-automatic weapons."

"Boys and their toys," Chris Radilacre smiled wryly as her head popped out the back of the Semaphore. "So are we doing this, or what?"

"She's right," Zeta stated. "We're on a tight schedule here. Hank's up in the turret already. In the back, Smith." Without another word, she climbed into the front passenger seat. Signalling his drones to follow, Daniel stepped into the back and settled down into one of the chairs. Alise was already strapped in at the far end. Chris closed the hatch and did likewise as Olaf started the engine.

"Strap yourself in, Smith," his voice echoed over an internal speaker. "I drive fast."


End file.
